


Of Maps and Constellations

by mm8



Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Aliens, American History, Banter, Being Lost, Classic Doctor Who References, Classic Who, Classic Who companions are awesome, Community: love_bingo, Community: wintercompanion, Explosions, Explosives, Friendship, Gen, Maps, Mentor/Sidekick, Mentors, Mistaken Identity, Platonic Relationships, Stars, Time Travel, Torchwood References, Western, Wild West
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-01
Updated: 2013-05-01
Packaged: 2017-12-10 03:12:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/781112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mm8/pseuds/mm8
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack Harkness is the sheriff of a town doesn't exist on any map.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Maps and Constellations

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for [squarededdie](http://squarededdie.livejournal.com/) at the 2013 Spring Gift Exchange at [wintercompanion](http://wintercompanion.livejournal.com/). My beta was the wonderful [miranda_askher](http://archiveofourown.org/users/miranda_askher).

The small town, if you could really call it a town, of Moriah Grove was very happy the day Captain Jack Harkness strolled in. 

Moriah Grove had sprung up overnight like most towns in the area when gold had been struck at Mount Troy a little over two years ago. Up until six months ago, the town had a reputation as one of the roughest in the West. The bank was robbed almost daily, women at the brothel were brutally raped, and gun fights were common in the streets. The average citizens of Moriah Grove were becoming increasing scared and agitated that their city was such a hovel for destruction.

But since Captain Jack Harkness arrived, Moriah Grove had become a respectable place to live. There was no violence, everyone attended church on Sunday, and everyone was kind.

Moriah Grove wasn't on anyone's map because it was so normal and discreet, and the residents of the small town liked it that way.

Until one man, one _Time Lord_ , noticed something was off.

\-----

The sheriff was lounging in his chair, feet propped up on his desk, looking through the stack of applicants for deputy. He didn't need one really, but at the last town council meeting they had pressured him into making a decision. Jack argued to the council that he worked better solo, without others getting in the way and ending up in danger. But they didn't buy it. They said it wasn't _right_ to have a sheriff without a deputy, like it wouldn't be right to have a deputy without a sheriff. Jack didn't understand one bit. He'd been sheriff for the last six months and when he walked into this town there hadn't been a sheriff _or_ a deputy to speak of.

Jack set the papers aside as he put his feet down. He rubbed his temples; picking a deputy shouldn't be this hard, especially when people were urging him to pick Mike Buckley, the town's blacksmith. But Jack didn't trust Buckley, not enough to have him hold a gun and to save Jack's life. Not that the Captain's life really needed saving. There was something about Mike Buckley, though. The way he looked at Jack, his eyes were too dark, like the endless black in the deep corners of the of the mines, and it seemed like he was able to see right through Jack's soul and know every one of his secrets. 

He took a bite of the peach cobbler that Mrs. Johnson had given him earlier in the day as a general thank you. That old lady made the best cobbler in the entire galaxy. It was hot, moist and so delicious. Mrs. Johnson had to be using some alien technology to make this cobbler; there was no way that it was made with only human hands. 

He really should go out and investigate the reports that people kept giving him that two strangers had wandered into town. It honestly didn't bother Jack in the slightest that an older man and a young woman had wandered into Moriah Grove. After all, he'd stumbled upon the town and look at all the good that had happened. But people still were people, and they still got antsy about outsiders. The newcomers were probably a newly wedded couple just passing through trying to get to California, or perhaps a father and his young daughter traveling to meet family that were further out west. It'd explain the report from Mrs. Johnson that they were wearing strange clothing. It was probably the latest fashion on the Atlantic side of the country. Either way, the residents thought it was Jack's duty as sheriff to at least talk to them and get a scoop on the situation and act accordingly. 

Jack was about to enjoy another helping when he heard a loud _boom_ in the far distance and the ground shook as if there was an earthquake. Some trinkets, the entire stack of paperwork, and Mrs. Johnson's cobbler came crashing down onto the floor. Luckily that was the extent of the damage. 

Immediately, Jack grabbed for the gun in his holster as a reflex and began making his way toward the door as someone burst in.

"Captain! Captain!" It was young Mr. Whaley; he still wore his butcher's apron, which was covered in blood; he hadn't taken the time to clean it off before he hurried over to the sheriff's office. 

Jack rushed forward to ease the shaking man. "Calm down, Mr. Whaley. It's fine. Everything will be alright."

"But what was that, Captain?" Young Mr. Whaley urged on, ringing his hands together. "Couldn't have been no earthquake. I don’t know no earthquakes that explode first."

Before Jack could reply, the door to his office opened again and a little boy ran through, stopping at Jack's desk to catch his breath. "Mr. Harkness! Mr. Archer sent me to get you. There's been an explosion down at the mines!"

Jack raised an eyebrow. An explosion at the mines was nothing unusual. They blasted sometimes when they had found all the gold they could in an area and needed to go down further. 

"It wasn't authorized, sir!" The little boy said, sensing that Jack didn't understand. "There weren't supposed to be no blasting going on today! Sabotage, sir! That's what they're saying!"

Jack grabbed his greatcoat and shrugged it on. "Lead the way."

The mines weren't too far from Jack's office, only three miles. But they had to run the whole way and it was at times like this when Jack sorely missed 21st century cars. When they arrived, there was a significant crowd surrounding the entrance to the mines: workers, family members, interested residents. The boy successfully led Jack through the horde and to the foreman, someone Jack remembered meeting only a couple of times before. 

The foreman stuck out his hand and shook Jack's. "Glad to see you here, Captain. It's a real mess we have here. I'm not quite sure what happened."

Jack nodded. "Just tell me all you know."

"At 1:00 my men took their scheduled half-hour lunch break—"

"So none of the workers were inside when the blast went off?" Jack asked.

The foreman shrugged. "Not that I know of. They shouldn't have been. At around 1:15 the explosion went off and once we all settled I sent one of my lads off to find you."

The Captain nods again. "Good. Clear the area. Make sure no one gets inside that tunnel. I'm going in alone."

"But, _Captain_ ," the foreman begged, grabbing the sleeve of his coat and pulling him back. "The tunnel is liable to be unstable after an unauthorized blast like that. You could get hurt, or worse, get killed."

Jack flashed one of his brilliant smiles. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about me."

With no more fuss, Jack was able to get down into the tunnel with no trouble at all. Once he made sure he was far away from the entrance he took out a small torch from a pocket of his greatcoat and used it to light his way. All he could see was rubble and equipment lying about. Nothing interesting. There wasn't even any sign that there had been an explosion or charges used. 

He was about to turn back when he thought, just for the hell of it, he'd call out, "Hello? Is anybody out there?"

"Yes," a male voice replied. " _We_ are."

Jack whirled around shining his torch in every direction before it caught a glimpse of the intruders. One was a middle-aged man, slightly short with a large nose, wearing a Panama style hat, a pullover that was decorated with question marks, and plaid trousers. Beside him was a young girl, probably sixteen or seventeen if Jack guessed. She had long blonde hair that was pulled back and she wore a leather jacket that was adorned with safety pins and badges. They certainly made an odd pair. 

Jack made sure to keep the torch shining at the mystery pair, while his other hand was an inch away from grasping his gun. "Just who the hell are you two? Why did you blow up the mine?"

The girl lightly punched the man's shoulder. "See, Professor. I told you a little Nitro would do the trick, didn't I? Get their attention."

"Yes, you did." The man had a thick Scottish accent.

"Were you two aware of the fact that this mine was filled with workers not fifteen minutes before you lit this place up like a candle?" Jack shot back.

The Professor frowned deeply, his eyes shown with disappointment. "And that, Ace, is why I hate your use of explosives." He gazed at Jack with renewed interest. "I am more interested in the fact that you are wearing a World War II greatcoat and carrying around a torch, which won't be invented for another thirty years."

"Gordon Bennett!" Ace exclaimed. "Is that true?"

Jack shifted his stance a little wider but said nothing. 

The Professor walked forward with the aid of his strange umbrella, although Jack had a good feeling that the man could walk perfectly fine without it. "Are you the cause of the anomaly we discovered in this region?"

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Could be. Can't say that I'm terribly normal. But what about you two? Who are you? Tourists? Freelancers? Time agents?" 

The Professor let out a sort of lyrical laugh. "Oh goodness me, no. Time agents? Whatever gave you that idea? Tourists would be the closest thing but it still does not cut it."

"Then what are you?"

The man shrugged nonchalantly. "Travelers. Just two travelers invested in the good of the future." He shifted his eyes. "Or the past. It can be hard to tell which is which sometimes." The Professor scowled. "You didn't answer my question. Are you the cause of this anomaly? You don't exactly belong in 1869."

"I could say the same about you," Jack scoffed. "Not exactly trying to blend in, are you? And what are you talking about an anomaly? I've been here for six months and my machines haven't registered anything."

"Machines?" The Professor inquired.

"It doesn't matter!" Ace interrupted. "Tell him about the town."

The Professor's face cleared. "Hm? Ah, yes. This town isn't on any map." His face was triumphant as if he had just declared that he'd just discovered the wheel.

"So what? Moriah Grove is _tiny_. It's barely a half a mile altogether if you don't include the mines. Not really a major stop on anyone's grand tour of the American wild west."

"But all towns, even the smallest are on some sort of map. Any map. Even one that a child draws." The Professor shook his head. "But this one isn't. It's not on a single map in the universe. Yet, _you_ found it, didn't you?" The Professor pondered. "Tell me, how did you find this place, Moriah Grove?" With the man's Scottish accent the roll of his r's were quite intriguing. It reminded Jack a little of Ianto's Welsh vowels.

"I just…" Jack sighed sadly. "I just found it. I've been running for a while. Running from my past. And… I was on my way to Douglas when I lost my way. My machine, it's a Vortex Manipulator, it short-circuited unexpectedly."

"Your Vortex Manipulator is the same device that couldn't detect that something was strange about this area?" the Professor scoffed. 

"Hey, I've been trying to fix it. It's a harder than I thought it would be. I'm stuck in the nineteenth century in a place with no rift so I deal." He took a deep breath. Jack got enough flak from the Doctor about his Vortex Manipulator; did he really need any from this Professor too? He continued, "Just when I thought I was going to die from dehydration, I caught sight of a town in the distance."

"And they just happened to make you sheriff?" the Professor asked, gesturing to tin star that was hooked onto Jack's belt. 

"Whoa!" Ace cried out. "Are you really the sheriff?"

Jack laughed. "That was after I, in their words, saved the town." He didn't mention to this stranger that he had died quite a few times in the process. It was a well-kept secret of Moriah Grove that they had a sheriff who would never die. To the few who knew, it freaked them enough to warn off others. Those who wanted to see the immortal sheriff for themselves soon went running the other way the moment Jack opened his eyes and gasped for air.

"You _did_ save our town. And we in turn, saved you."

The Professor, Ace and Jack spun around to face the figure in the darkness. Jack shown his light at the figure's face to reveal no one other than…

"Mike Buckley?"

The blacksmith smiled sympathetically. "Yes, Captain. I'm sorry but what the Professor says is true." His voice was eerily calm, so unlike his normal gruff tone. "Moriah Grove is not a real town. It only exists for the benefits of those who we choose to see it."

Jack spluttered. This didn't make any sense. He always noticed when there were alien forces meddling on Earth—it had been his job for over two centuries! "What? How?"

"We went to great lengths to ensure that you wouldn't find out until the very end. We were very thorough." 

Mike Buckey stepped forward, slowly and deliberately. This time, Jack pulled his gun from his holster, and aimed it straight at the blacksmith's head. Ace screamed nonsense and the Professor put himself between Buckley and Jack's gun.

Something held Jack back. The old Jack, the one who willingly sacrificed his own grandson, the Jack who worked at the Time Agency, would have pulled the trigger in a heartbeat without a second thought. If the Professor, an odd middle-aged man with a Panama hat hadn't stepped in between them he would have done it. But something about the Professor seemed familiar. He couldn't place it. But there was no way he could possibly shoot this man and live with himself.  
Jack lowered his gun and put it back in its holster. 

The Professor nodded him in thanks before turning to face Buckley. "Care to explain what is really going on here, Mr. Buckley?"

"Certainly. Although," Buckley stared at Jack again his deep black eyes causing the immortal to shiver. "Our apologies to Captain Harkness. We were going to inform you of our impending mission in a fortnight. But it seems that the blast caused by your young friend here has increased our deadline."

"What?" Jack asked. "What are you talking about?"

"They're aliens, Captain." The Professor stated, plain and simple. 

"Yes. You see, Captain, our spacecraft landed deep within this very mountain several decades ago before ejecting the entire crew for safety. Our race puts a cloaking shield and adaption device in our vehicles in case of such an event. The day our ship crashed, the town, our identities were born."

"There is also a line of code in the program," Buckley continued, his eyes darkening, "that allows any outsider who is similar to us in spirit to see our surroundings. That's how you found us, Captain Harkness."

Jack gulped. 

"You were lost," Buckley said. "As were we."

There was a heavy silence in the mine as everyone took what had been said in.

"So you made him sheriff," the Professor clarified. "To keep him close. As your people kept digging in the mines to find your ship."

Buckley nodded. "Correct." He turned to face Jack. "It's been our intention, Captain, to ask you if you'd like to accompany us on our journey back to the stars. Back to our home. It will take many a millennia, but you are welcomed to join us. You are family now."

Before Jack could react, the Professor snarled, "And what will you do to him if he decides to stay here? Will you—"

Buckley was horrified. "No! We all love Captain Harkness! We wish no harm upon him! If he chooses to stay we will honor that wish. We will help him leave Moriah Grove, in fact."

For Jack, there was no choice to be made.

\-----

_Well,_ Jack thought. _At least I'm finally at Douglas._

He was sitting at the bar of _Drake's Saloon_ next to the Professor and Ace. Douglas, in fact, was only about ten miles away so getting there on the horses Buckley provided had been no problem.

The bartender settled in front of the trio, polishing a dirty glass. "Can I help you?"

Ace perked up. "I'll have a rum and coke—"

" _Ace_." The Professor warned.

"Rum—"

" _Ace,_ " he growled out a second time.

She sighed. "Just a coke—"

"It's not invented yet," the Professor rubbed at his temples, pushing his hat back a little. "And even when it is, I'm not letting you touch it."

Ace looked at him exasperated. "Why? It's just soda."

"History lesson for another day, I suppose."

In the end Ace ordered lemonade, the Professor a glass of water, while Jack asked for some whiskey. After a few minutes of companionable silence, Ace declared she was bored and wandered off to the young men playing poker by the piano.

The Professor chuckled. "She can never stay out of trouble."

Jack glanced over his shoulder to see that Ace had taken off her jacket and was asking the dealer of the game for a hand of cards. "So is she like your daughter or something?"

The Professor had been sipping his water and choked on Jack's words and did his best swallow to his drink down, but still managed to have some dribble down his chin. "No, Ace isn't my daughter." He said. "We're friends. She's more of a travelling companion."

Jack hummed. It wouldn't be the first time he met someone who was traveling with a teenage blonde so who was he to judge? He smiled to himself as he traced the rim of his glass with his finger. Jack missed the Doctor and Rose sometimes.

"What about you, Captain?" Jack gazed up at the Professor, who looked like he'd been staring at him with bemusement. "Back in the cave you said you were running from something." The strange man smiled. "Your past, if I remember correctly. What exactly are you running from?"

His eyes widened and his breath caught in his throat. Jack stared into this man's friendly face. He wanted to tell his man everything. Really, everything. About Cardiff, about Torchwood, about Ianto. How he let so many people that he loved die. There was something comfortable about the Professor. He'd sensed it back in the mines. But the logical part of his brain told him to guard himself. Jack couldn't open his heart up to anyone else; not anymore.

He flashed a fake smile at the Professor before taking a quick sip of his whiskey. "Myself."

The Professor opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted when Ace came barreling toward them, her jacket flung over her shoulder and flying behind her. "Doctor, it might be a good idea if we get going." She gestured with her head toward the gaming table that she'd just vacated. "Apparently they don't play for money from Iceworld."

_Doctor?_

Jack ogled the pair with new scrutiny. If the Professor was really the Doctor, his Doctor, then… that made things make a whole more sense, didn't it? The travelling companion, trying to save the universe, the _outfit_. But why hadn't the Doctor said anything? He knew Jack's name; Mike had said it enough. That only meant… Jack inhaled deeply. The Doctor hadn't met him yet. This was an earlier regeneration than the one he met in England. Oh Christ, Jack hoped he hadn't screwed up any timelines by meeting the Doctor now.

The Doctor tipped his hat to Jack and made his apologizes for their quick departure. Jack simply smiled and raised his glass to the duo as they rushed out of the saloon into the twilight. 

Jack sat there grinning like a loon, sipping quietly on his cheap whiskey and tapping his fingers to the tune the piano man cranked out. He wasn't sure where he was going or how he was going to get there, but Jack was damn sure he was going to enjoy the ride.

He raised his hand to signal the barkeep. When the young man arrived, he asked, "Hey, do you have a map?"

After a moment the man came back with small map of the Western half of the United States. Jack closed his eyes and pressed his index finger to a random spot on the map. Then he opened his eyes to see where his life would take him next.


End file.
